


Kill The Limbo

by whiffingbooks



Series: These prompts keep pulling me in [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 31 Days Writing Challenge, Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Florist Harry, Prompt Fic, Tattoo Artist Ginny, WritersMonth2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26025619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiffingbooks/pseuds/whiffingbooks
Summary: Prompt: there was only one bed.Sometimes, you need to share a bed to really know a person. (A continuation of my florist!Harry and tattoo artist!Ginny).
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: These prompts keep pulling me in [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859185
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	Kill The Limbo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eleyezeeaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleyezeeaye/gifts).



"We should go," Harry murmured as he stood up. Ignoring Ginny's quizzical look, he tugged his jumper over his head. He needed to return and check on his shop once before retiring for the night. More importantly, he needed to get away from her. He had already broken his rule of not spending so many hours with Ginny Weasley. There was no saying what he might do if he stayed.

Probably blurt out his feelings. Disgusting.

"Go where? Back to Bristol? It's already eight. It'll take more than two hours to reach. Maybe we should check in to a hotel for the night," Ginny laughed, but he could see her looking a bit uneasy at him pulling back.

"Shit, it's eight?" He took out his phone. The time 8:34 glared at him along with five missed calls and some texts from his mum. "We shouldn't have stayed for dinner. Ah shite, mum's probably pissed."

She knocked their elbows together. "Hey, buying me dinner was the best thing you've ever done. I deserve to get sloshed."

She handed some cash to the bartender. Harry's hands itched to take it back and pay for both of them, but she had long established a system of alternatively paying. He had bought them dinner (despite her protests). The only reason she allowed it was because he had dragged her to London on her free Saturday.

"Here," the bartender handed her back the change. "I love your tattoos. Where did you get them done?"

"Oh, I did some of them. My friend did my shoulders and back. I'm a tattoo artist."

The bartender's eyes widened. He whistled in appreciation.

"Those are fucking great."

Ginny dragged Harry out of the pub, throwing a loud 'Thanks' behind her which startled a man into spilling his beer on his shirt.

"You could have hyped up your shop. Missed opportunity." Harry checked his messages. Of course, his mum wanted details. He was miffed that she seemed more annoyed than concerned for not answering. He might have been in a dangerous position. Getting mugged or kidnapped. But what did Lily Potter care about?

She just wanted to see her son stammer about his crush.

"Nah. Would have taken a long time. I saw him eyeing me up when I went to get some rum. Besides, I gave you my solemn promise that you would be the centre of my attention all day long." She smiled at him, making Harry trip over his feet.

"I never thanked you for coming along," he squeaked. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Yes, you did. You've done nothing else except thank me since our arrival. You want to hit another pub?"

He shook his head. "I think we should turn in early for the night. There should be a vacancy in the Plaza London Hotel."

She held his hand, intertwining their fingers. "Hmm, you know how to treat a girl." She shot him a beaming smile. Harry wondered whether she knew how much she affected him. She looked particularly lovely. Her yellow sundress left her shoulders and hands bare, giving him a nice view of her gorgeous tattoos. With her long mane trailing behind her, she resembled a wood sprite straight from the books. Harry had been quite distracted all day, leading the owner of the building to wave confusedly at him.

"I do sweep my dates away with promises of spending the night in London hotels. Sometimes, I even sprinkle in some of my flowers." Ginny giggled at his prim expression.

She wiped away some of her tears. "Ah. I know how to choose men then. Let's grab some chocolates before checking in to the hotel."

"Didn't you have a chocolate roulade?"

"And?"

"Nothing." He gently guided her to the opposite pavement. "I know there's one nearby. Make sure you don't pull a dine and dash. I've seen you near chocolate."

Ginny laid her head against his shoulder, making his heart skip a beat.

"Arsehole," she said fondly.

* * *

"Phew. £65 for a room?" Ginny shot the receptionist a razor-sharp smile. The receptionist's plastered smile didn't falter.

"Yes, ma'am. We don't have many vacancies on the weekends."

Harry leaned on the counter. "Can we get another one?"

She adopted an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, sir. We only have rooms for three or more available. The last double room was booked an hour ago. This is the last single room we have left. I can book you a family suite too if you want."

Ginny held up a finger. "Excuse us for a moment."

She seized his hand and dragged him near the corner of the reception area. Harry surreptitiously glanced at the receptionist who dropped her smile for a second and scowled. She looked up to find him watching her. Immediately, she gave him the grating smile. Harry would have felt pity for her had she not shot them deplorable looks since their entry.

"She is ripping us off!" Ginny whispered furiously.

"I think £65 is a suitable sum for a single room."

She frowned. "It is suitable if you're not taking another room. I think she's being dodgy with the details."

Harry chuckled. "Is it because she gave your tattoos a dirty look?"

"Is it-Is it, you say--" she sputtered. "Of course, it's part of it! I have more politeness than her. When customers come to me, I don't give them strange looks. I don't judge them. I mean, I do a little bit if they want a tattoo on some weird place on their body. Especially, the last girl who got a tattoo of the children's cartoon 69-ing. She was something, all right. But I don't show it! She's not getting a tip from me."

"She wasn't getting one in the first place."

"On whose side are you on?"

"Yours," he promptly replied causing Ginny to startle and blush. Under the fluorescent lights, she glowed like the setting sun.

"What should we do then?" Harry thought about the East London Hotel. It wasn't too far away. Maybe, they could check-in without much fuss.

"We'll take the double room."

"And?"

"Just the one."

Harry stared at her. "You mean," he gulped, "We share the room?"

Ginny shot him an indecipherable look. "We're adults here. We can handle sharing a room for the night. Unless you're repulsed by my presence. If that's the case, wrong decision of making me tag along on this trip," she joked, but he could detect a layer of uncertainty in her voice, as if she was afraid of her words being true.

Bugger.

"No, no. I don't find you repulsive at all. It's the opposite," he reassured her. Immediately, he turned red.

"Is that it?" She stared at him intently, her bright brown eyes boring into his own. He felt exposed under her gaze, but his eyes didn't dare leave hers.

"I mean, of course. We're friends, aren't we?" He cleared his throat. "We can indulge in two rooms for the night. I'll pay."

"Hmm, I don't think so." She walked past him to the reception desk. The receptionist was sneaking in some taffy, but upon seeing them, she sighed. Ginny didn't pay any attention.

"We'll take the double room." Harry's eyes widened. "Check out is 12 tomorrow, innit?"

"Yes, ma'am. That'll be £65."

"Here." Harry brushed aside Ginny's hands and handed the receptionist two £50 notes. His body was running on autopilot, his mind still stuck at Ginny's intense look. He glanced at her, his breath catching when he found her watching him. She looked more alluring in the bland hotel light. Her hair was covering the tattoo on her collarbone, the one which Harry always ached to trace. She had let him touch her all day long - light caresses, soft brushes against her skin - driving him mad with want. For four months Harry kept his crush a secret, afraid of her scorning him once she found out.

But now...

"Um, Mr...Hello?" He snapped back into focus. The receptionist's eye twitched, giving him the impression she was barely holding on to her feigned politeness. "I need your details for the registry. Please, fill it up." He apologetically took the register and pen and filled up the blank slots, highly aware of Ginny tapping her feet.

After finishing, he handed them back. The receptionist took the registry and nodded. She opened up a cupboard, snatching a key with the room number 27.

Handing the key to Ginny, she smiled. "Room 27 is on the second floor. Check out's at noon sharp tomorrow. We'll send room service within the next hour. Have a nice night, Mr Potter and Ms Weasley."

"What's your name?" Ginny asked, taking her off guard.

"Um, I'm Emma. Ma'am."

Ginny nodded. "Thank you, Emma. We'll head right up. Have a nice night."

Ignoring Emma's baffled look, Ginny extended her hand to Harry and smiled. He took it.

* * *

"Um, I expected it to be better, you know." Ginny's hair glowed under the moonlight. Thankfully, their room had a window.

"It's in London. Everything's expensive. Even a 2.7 rated hotel." He heard the bed shift. Feeling Ginny's gaze on him, he faced her. In the dimly lit room, he could make out her body outline. He wondered whether she was taking the mickey.

"Did you check out the ratings?"

"Of course. Had to know if we were being led to the gallows. Besides, you were busy talking to your mum. What did she say?"

He frowned as he recalled Lily's teasing and innuendos. His mum was a bad influence. Honestly, no mother should be privy to their son's love lives.

"She was being cheeky. She thinks she's so funny. Made some horrible puns about spending the night with a woman."

"You did take some time getting me into bed. Have you been planning this for ages?" Yeah, she was smirking.

"Yeah. I was trying to get you in bed with me for four months." He hoped that she didn't pick up the truth laced in his words. He never only wanted to get in bed with her, but he can't deny she had featured quite extensively in his dreams.

"Four months is a long time. You kept a good charade on. When you tried to offer me the bed, I almost thought it was chivalry."

Harry reached his hand out to brush aside her hair. He bumped her nose accidentally, making Ginny giggle. Was it his imagination or did she sound breathless?

She sobered. "You're taking up the shop? It's a good offer."

He nodded. "Yeah. The venue is pretty good. Better than the last place. Less trouble too. The only downside is --"

"-- my absence. Of course, you'll miss me. Who wouldn't."

"I won't be there all the time," he promised. "It's just --"

"-- a month. I know." He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt her hand softly caressing his arm. The bed was small from the beginning. Now, it seemed to have shrunk to fit barely one. They scooted closer to each other as it got steadily darker. It was uncomfortable lying in his jeans, but it was better than sleeping next to Ginny in his boxers.

He was feeling braver tonight than he had in the past four months. Summoning all his nerve, he gently wrapped his hand around her waist.

"The bed is small." Immediately, he wanted to curse himself. So much for being suave.

Fortunately, Ginny didn't mind.

"Oh?" The teasing tilt in her voice made him flush. "Well, we can't have you falling now, can we?" Instantly, she rolled over to him, tucking her head under his chin and entangling her legs with his.

"Comfortable?" Her breath hit his collarbone.

"Very," he responded in a low voice which he hardly recognized as his own. He rubbed circles against the small of her back, ignoring the slight shiver that passed through her.

"You never told me."

"What?" They were both whispering, a strange atmosphere hushing up their voices.

"About why you became a tattoo artist. I thought Rugby was your passion."

"It is. If I ever get the chance to play again, I will."

"And you won't?"

"Nah. Tore my ACL in my final game. Had to retire early." Ginny's voice was hard as if she was bracing herself for platitudes.

"You must have been a hurricane on the field," he said, impressed by her as always.

She giggled. "I was. People used to say I had a temper big enough to frighten a bull. I usually got angry when they told me."

"And tattoos?"

"What about them?"

"Were tattoos and rugby your passion since your childhood?"

"Oh, no. I was introduced to tattoo art by my ex-boyfriend. Dean was an amazing artist. One day, he took me to this tattoo parlour as a date. I fell in love with it. Caused quite an uproar at my house when I got my first tattoo though."

"He's a tattoo artist too?"

"Nope. Dean is currently in Paris. He graduated from the Royal College of Art. Now, he is under the tutelage of this artist whose name I can never remember. We met up a few months back when he was visiting with his boyfriend."

"And how do you know which one gets inked on your skin?" He finally broached the subject that he had wanted to ask since day one.

"I get the tattoos of things which resonate with me," she said simply. She took his hand into her small ones and pressed his fingers against her nape.

"A wolf for a tight bond with your family."

She lifted his hand and guided him to her left collarbone. Harry gulped, his heart beating fast. He caressed her lightly, mindful of the way her breath faltered.

"A lifetime of glory is worth a moment of pain," she said, breathing raggedly. "My mentor taught me that. I used to repeat it before every match." She smiled ruefully. "Ironic, I know."

"Any places you've been thinking about getting tattooed?"

"My legs," she admitted, letting go of his hand. "I kept them blank. I guess I'm waiting for inspiration." A pause. "You can help me with that!"

"What?" He stammered.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of it before? You know flowers and their meanings! I always wanted to get a flower tattoo. Finally, I have someone who can advise me."

"Where do you want it?" His mind flooded with images of Ginny lifting her skirt to show her tattoo. He shook his head.

"Haven't decided yet. Maybe my hip. Or thigh. I guess it depends on what you think I should get," she pondered.

Without any hesitation, he answered, "Amaryllis." He rubbed his neck. "I mean, that's a neat suggestion."

She raised her eyebrow. "You came up with that quickly."

Harry felt himself colouring at his eagerness. "It'll look good."

"What does it mean?"

"Many things. Beauty, determination, success." He paused. "Love."

"I don't remember how it looked like."

"Bloody hell. You're missing a good thing." He patted the bedside table for his glasses. Putting them on, he scoured around for his phone, yelping when the bright light hit his face. Ignoring Ginny's laughter, he googled Amaryllis.

"Here. I hope you're having fun laughing at a nearly blind person who got attacked in front of you."

"I am."

"Ugh, sod off."

Harry shoved the phone towards her, nearly poking her in the process. Her chuckles died down as she took in the picture.

"So?" He rubbed his hands nervously.

"It's beautiful." She met his eyes, her brown orbs soft and understanding. "Very unusual option. Generally, I expect people to tell me to get either roses or insectivorous plants. Mental, all of them."

"It's my favourite flower." Seeing her surprised look, he added, "At least one of my favourites. I shouldn't discriminate among my flowers. Makes for a very bad florist."

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "I knew that you weren't the impartial flower lover you preached to be!"

"Hey! I'm human! I'm bound to have favourites!" he sputtered.

"I expected more from you."

Shaking her head, Ginny leaned in - their faces almost touching. Her nose brushed against his, sending a pleasant warmth to his abdomen. He closed his eyes, parting his lips to accept hers. Her breath fell on his, the smell of the mint that she had chewed aggressively before heading to bed. He crept closer until...

"We should go to sleep," she whispered. His eyes shot open. Ginny's face was full of longing and regret, but resolution too. She was not going to back down from her decision. Shamefacedly (and with some confusion), he retreated.

"Okay?"

"Not that I don't want to do it. Kiss you, I mean." She huffed. "It's -- We've had a long day. I think we should start something," she gestured between them, hitting both of their chests because of the lack of space, "early in the morning when we aren't tired. Or drunk."

"I'm not drunk," he responded quickly.

"Me either," she admitted.

"Ginny, I--" he stammered to a stop. Ginny looked vulnerable in the phone light. He had never seen her look so unsure, afraid and cautious. He knew it was time to stop floundering about and admit to her what he had been feeling for so long. Damn the consequences.

"I fancy you." He blurted out. Her eyes widened. "A lot. My best days are the ones when you look at me with that smile and ask 'Want a cuppa?'. My worst are the ones when I don't see you. Or talk to you. You- I think about you all the time. I have for four months. You're - you're beyond amazing."

He thought Ginny's eyes looked slightly glossy.

"You do?" Her voice sounded a tad thick. He didn't dwell much on it.

He nodded with vigour. "Completely. Sometimes, I ruin my flowers because I crush them to stop reaching for you." He paused. "I shouldn't have said that."

Ginny chuckled. "You're adorable." Then, she kissed him.

Once, Harry had visited her shop and found it closed. He had phoned her, panicking when he learnt she was sick. In his panic, he had rushed to the nearest store and bought five types of ice cream. Ginny had been touched, leading her to kiss his cheek. He had not removed his hand from the spot the entire day, grinning like a fool at his alarmed customers who fled when they saw his glossy eyes.

This felt a thousand times better than the peck. He was sure that he died and came alive ten times during the brief kiss. He wanted to slip his fingers in her hair and deepen it, but soon, Ginny pulled away. He was left blinking owlishly.

"Whoa," Harry remarked dazedly.

"Whoa, indeed. If that didn't make it clear, I fancy you too."

"That didn't. I think you should convince me."

Her eyes twinkled. "And how should I do that?"

Harry widened his eyes in faux surprise. "Why? Haven't you heard? Romantic declarations need kisses nowadays or they aren't deemed valid."

"Which wanker made the rule?" She sniffed as if his request was beneath her. He tried to fight the grin threatening to appear.

"I did. And whether I'm a wanker or not, remains to be seen."

"Git."

Ginny shrieked as Harry pushed her back into the pillows, making her bounce. He covered his body with hers, both of theirs shaking because of Ginny's laughter. He quickly attached his lips with hers, quieting her down in an instant.

The rest of the night was filled with moans and sighs and giggles.

"Tossers," Emma said, the next day, as Harry and Ginny waved her goodbye. She needed a nice, long holiday away from tempestuous guests.

**Author's Note:**

> Damn. Sorry, Liza. I'm so late.   
> Find me on [whiffingbooks](https://whiffingbooks.tumblr.com/)


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